


Girls Chase Boys

by Pythia (anroisin)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, FTM Percy, Gen, I didn't expect this to turn into an actual fic, Menstruation, Partial Nudity, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, if you squint really hard - Freeform, past masturbation implied
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2197674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anroisin/pseuds/Pythia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy isn't all that different from the other boys she's liked, except he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING: this particular drabble is about menstruation. I wouldn't say it's graphic detail, but it's not exactly fade-to-black, either. If you're uncomfortable with periods, I'd suggest skipping this one. 
> 
> It's unrated because I really have no idea how to rate it. I think it's somewhere between a T and an M, but it's nebulous at the moment, and so unrated it shall be until and unless further drabbles necessitate a different rating.

Percy reached menarche during one of the last chariot races of the summer, shortly before he turned fourteen. He’d been complaining about his stomach hurting since breakfast, but the actual bleeding didn’t start until halfway through the first lap. 

“Uh.” Over the noises of the horses and clashing of weapons and whooping of campers, Percy looked over his shoulder, bright red and shell-shocked. “I think I just wet my pants.” 

It barely took three seconds for her to figure it out. A thirteen year old with a cramping stomach and a sudden rush of fluid from his crotch really wasn’t hard to diagnose. She gave an exasperated groan. 

“You didn’t wet your pants, seaweed brain, you got your period.” 

“Wha--?” The Apollo chariot had just crashed, and it took him a minute to look back at Annabeth blankly. “Sorry, what'd you say?” 

“Your menstrual period,” Annabeth repeated, throwing a javelin at the Ares chariot and knocking their driver down. She took a second or two to indulge in pride before turning back to Percy. “The stomach cramping, the five ham and egg sandwiches you scarfed for breakfast, the blood coming through the back of your pants?” 

“Oh.” Percy blinked, then it seemed to sink in, and he looked back at her, eyes wide with panic. “ _Crap_. What do I do? If you can see it, does that mean everyone else can too?” He tried to twist around to look at his back, and the chariot veered dangerously. 

“Eyes on the track!” Annabeth shouted, and he snapped back to face forward, his blush spreading down his neck. “Just finish the race and thank the gods you’re wearing dark shorts. I can only see the stain because I’m up close. Now _drive_!” 

“Okay,” he said, voice a little shaky. “Driving.”

They finished in third, which wasn’t too bad considering most of the race was spent with Percy sort of dazed at the reins, but by the end of it he had blood running down his calf, which made it look like he’d been stabbed somewhere important and freaked out more than a few campers. 

“Percy, you’re bleeding!” 

"Oh my gods--"

“I never saw him get hit, did you?” 

Annabeth took hold of his elbow--”He’s _fine_ , yes, I'm sure, stop crowding--” and dragged him into the boy’s room, made him wash his hands, pushed him into a stall and told him to drop trou and sit until she came back. 

Luckily for him, Annabeth had been getting hers for two years already, so she had plenty of supplies. She made a quick stop at Percy’s cabin, where she grabbed the first boxers, cargo shorts and socks that looked passably clean, and then she headed back to the bathroom. 

“Annabeth, is that you?"

"The one and only."

“Oh, thank the gods.” The relief in Percy’s voice made her face feel warm, and she added a silent thanks of her own that he couldn't see her. “My stomach hurts. And my back. And my legs. And my, uh, crotch. Is that normal?” 

“Yes. Two of these, two more if they haven’t helped in half an hour.” Annabeth got to her knees and pulled a bottle of ibuprofen from her pack, holding it under the bottom of the stall until Percy grabbed it. “Do you need water?” 

“Nah.” Two swallows, and then a pause. “So, what did I just take?” 

Annabeth pinched at the bridge of her nose. “Painkillers, seaweed brain. For the cramps.” 

“Oh.” 

“One of these days, you’re going to end up dead because you ate something without bothering to find out what it was.” She started digging through her pack again. “I brought you a change of clothes, but because you’re an idiot who doesn’t wear briefs, you have a problem--there’s nowhere to put a pad. You can either learn to use a tampon, or you can borrow a pair of my underwear.” 

“So my choices are sticking something up a hole that I have trouble finding when it _isn’t_ gushing blood, or wearing my best friend’s panties for a week?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“...Hole. If I can’t do it, we’ll go the other way.” 

“Logical thinking. I’m impressed.” Annabeth smirked. 

“Shut up.” Percy’s hand appeared under the stall door and he made a grabby motion. “I want to get this over with.” 

“There are instructions on the box, but I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’ll have trouble reading them. I am going to give you the box, though--” she put it in his hand, which disappeared again. “--because knowing you, it‘ll take a few tries.” 

Giving step-by-step instructions through a closed stall in the boys’ room went surprisingly well, and it only took two failed attempts for him to get it inserted properly. Within twenty minutes, he had successfully changed into his fresh clothes and balled up the bloodstained ones to soak, but he only made it a couple steps toward the sink before he froze, his stomach gurgling ominously.

“Don’t tell me the red army brings montezuma’s revenge along for the ride,” he said weakly, and that was her cue to leave. There were some things even Percy couldn’t wheedle her into doing, and staying in the room while he had an attack of the runs was one of them.

“You can handle washing clothes by yourself, can’t you?” Annabeth slung her bag over her shoulder. Percy managed to stick his tongue out at her before his face went green and he raced back into the stall. She ducked outside and ran a hand through her curls, which didn’t help the agitation that tended to build up under the surface of her skin every time she was around him.

Two days later, Annabeth woke up with blood on her sheets a week and a half early, and at the line for offerings at breakfast she punched Percy in the arm for hijacking her cycle to match his. He retaliated by stealing her bacon, which she stole back (along with his in recompense), which lead to a minor scuffle that only ended when someone from the Aphrodite cabin came over with what looked like their entire tables’ worth of meat, dumping half of it on Annabeth's plate and half on Percy's.

“Plenty of iron for you both to load up on,” he said with a knowing and slightly smug smile. Annabeth had to shove a sausage in Percy's mouth to stop him from tackling the guy.

Surprisingly, it didn’t become an excuse for people to make cracks about Annabeth’s sausage, or Percy’s mouth and Annabeth’s sausage, or Percy and Annabeth sitting in a tree, f-u--

\--but that might have been because the unlucky Hermes kid who tried it ended up wheezing on the ground after finding out the hard way that Annabeth really was _that good_ at judo flips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the one where he gets stuck in his binder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in the market for a beta, for this fic and for Quicksilver and the Sea, which is my other big Project with a capital P. I'll leave more detailed info at the end of this chapter, but if you think you'd be interested in one or both, drop me a line!
> 
> Content note: this one contains partial nudity, by which I mean boobs, and non-sexual but sexually-charged touching of said boobs.

“Hey, uh--a little help?” 

“ _Di immortales_ , again?” She shut her book and got up, heading into Cabin Three, where Percy was struggling with his binder. His elbow was out one hole, his other arm folded up awkwardly against his chest, the bottom half rolled up and his head still poking out of the neck, which was caught on his ear. 

He smiled sheepishly at her. Her stomach did something funny. 

“I’m stuck.” 

“No, really?” She huffed, but went over and started untangling him anyway. “This is the second time today.” 

“Hey, these things aren’t easy like your bras, especially when you’re wet--” 

Annabeth just raised one eyebrow and watched the flush spread from Percy’s face down his neck. 

“From the _shower_ , or after I’m drenched in sweat from training all day.” 

“Well, you are pretty rank.” 

His facial expression went from indignance to unease, then he sniffed at his underarm and settled on wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Ew. Which is all the more reason I need out of the stupid thing.” 

“Arms up,” Annabeth instructed. He obediently raised them, and with a little rolling and tugging the bottom came loose and Percy’s stupid perfect breasts bounced free. Little pink nipples hardened in the air, Percy made a noise that sounded way too much like an orgasm, and Annabeth was only distracted for .02 seconds before she pulled it the rest of the way off, leaving him topless. 

He shook out his arms and cupped his breasts and started massaging them and _oh, come on,_ made another sex noise, his head tilted back and eyes shut. Annabeth bit her lip. 

“That feels so good,” he mumbled. “Man, I have such a love-hate relationship with those things.” 

She balled up the binder, damp with sweat, to throw it on the pile of dirty laundry Percy had started to accumulate--but she paused, rubbing the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. 

“On the one hand, support, compression and durability,” Percy was saying as he walked over to the fountain in the far corner of his cabin, turned his back to her and started rinsing himself off. Annabeth found her eyes traveling down his spine, over his muscled shoulders and down into the dips of his scapula, the narrow tuck of his waist and the shadowed dimples at the very base of his back, where the waistband of his shorts sat just before his hips started to widen. 

“--next to no breathability, which really sucks in the summer because it’s already constricting my ribs so tightly. Seriously, I almost passed out on the lava wall yesterday.” He splashed his face, then cupped his hands under the stream of water and dumped it over his head, hair sticking to the back of his neck. 

“And because the fabric is so stiff, it’s inflexible,” Annabeth finished for him. She pulled to test it, and it hardly gave at all. “Which is a problem in battle. Wearing something that restricts your movement is asking to get the crap kicked out of you.” 

“Exactly.” Percy shook the excess water from his hands and turned around, grabbing a camp shirt from the bed nearest to him. “And to top it off, it itches like crazy.” 

“Wait a minute--don’t put that on yet.” 

He blinked, then grinned, putting his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest. There were thick tan lines on his shoulders and over his collarbone where the binder sat, the skin of his stomach and chest a good three shades lighter than the rest of him. “Why? Enjoying the view?” 

Annabeth threw the binder at him. It landed squarely in his face. 

“You wish, kelp-head.” While he spluttered, she started digging through his stuff--he had to have something she could use. 

“Hey, that’s my--what are you doing?” 

Twine. Perfect. Annabeth smirked. “Stay still.” 

Percy looked like he wanted to protest, but he shut up when Annabeth got close and started unrolling the twine, holding one end just above his navel and wrapping it around his back in a loop. She then pulled her dagger from her pocket and, after making sure the twine was snug, cut it off where the roll met the end. 

“Waist, one knot,” she said, and tied a loose knot into the string, then set it aside. “Arms out.” 

Percy’s face was pink, and flushed pinker when she began to repeat the process, this time wrapping the twine at the top of his ribcage, just under where his chest started to swell. His breath hitched and goosebumps broke out over his skin where she touched him. 

“Underbust, two knots.” The flush was spreading from his face down his chest, brighter on the skin that didn’t see much sun. “Last one.” 

He swallowed, looking over her shoulder as her fingers brushed his nipples, which hardened instantly. 

“What? It’s cold,” he muttered. Annabeth snorted, cutting the twine a third time. 

“Bust, three knots. And I’m done.” She stepped back, picked up the pieces of string and wound them into loops to put in her pocket. “I’ll use these to get your measurements, play around and see what I can come up with.” 

Percy blinked, then it clicked--she could see the realization happen on his face--and he broke into one of his stupid sunny grins. “You know, wise girl, sometimes you’re kind of awesome.” 

“I know.” She gave his chest a pointed look. “You can put your shirt on now.” 

“Oh. Right.” Percy grabbed it and yanked it over his head. It was loose on him, which helped disguise the curves of his waistline and his breasts as long as he didn’t lean back. 

Some of the Aphrodite girls thought it was unfair that Percy wore such baggy clothing when he had a perfect hourglass figure. Annabeth thought it was unfair that he wore such baggy clothing when he had perfect broad shoulders and washboard abs. 

But nobody had to know that. 

\--

“Okay,” Percy said, twisting to see his spine in the mirror. “Except for my mother, you’re officially the best person in the world. It even makes me look like I have _pecs_. How’d you do that?” 

“Measurements,” Annabeth said simply, fighting back a grin--she couldn’t help it; Percy was infectious. “And math. It really wasn’t hard. And,” she stepped forward to tug at the shoulder strap. “It’s flexible while still giving you compression, it breathes and wicks moisture, it’s UV-protective _and_ it’s bulletproof. Cabin nine came up with some really amazing materials. But most importantly--” 

Percy turned around to face her, his grin so wide it was almost blinding. “--it zips.” 

Annabeth gave in and grinned back, her body warming. “No more getting stuck. I finally have time before bed to read again, now that I don’t have to keep you from strangling yourself or dislocating your shoulders. It’s certified seaweed-brain operable.” 

Percy surprised her by catching her around the waist and pulling her close, whispering _”thank you”_ into her hair. She thought she could feel his heart pounding almost as hard as her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! Beta-reading. 
> 
> The next part I have in progress for this one is explicitly smutty with shades of D/s, and stylistically you know already what to expect since you've just read it. 
> 
> Quicksilver, for those of you who don't know, is a Luke/Percy soap opera, it's an AU, and it's kind of bombastic and dark and violent and intense. And I also plan on writing smut, although I've been stuck on chapter two for a while and haven't yet. 
> 
> I have problems with keeping plot points straight because what are linear timelines, and also with coming up with plot points that make sense in the first place. I'm a little obsessive about details and fact-checking, and will get stuck for hours doing research on different classes of misdemeanors in the state of New York and realistic waist-to-hip ratios for tall adolescent females. I've got grammar and spelling pretty much covered, but my wording of things can get a little clunky and hard to understand. 
> 
> Also, please be able to put up with me potentially spamming you with fic-relevant media from a myriad of places. 
> 
> In short, I need help: 
> 
> -brainstorming ideas for plot holes   
> -managing non-linear timelines  
> -fact-checking   
> -smoothing out clunky wording. 
> 
> If this sounds like you, please give me a holler. Aside from Ao3, I can be found on AIM (colorilluminates) and tumblr (anroisindubh) most easily.

**Author's Note:**

> This kinda came out of thin air last night. I've had the headcanon for FTM!Percy for a while, but I never expected it to go beyond headcanon--yet here we are. I've got other stuff written, but none of it finished. I'd like it to follow pretty closely with the events of canon, but since I can't write in a linear timeline to save my life, the drabbles won't actually be in chronological order. 
> 
> I pulled the title out of my ass, because it's one of my favorite Ingrid Michaelson songs and it's pretty ambiguous, which is good because I have no idea where it's going to end up going. 
> 
> I haven't decided yet how Percy goes about coming out, but I figure he's at least told Annabeth and probably Grover and the Aphrodite kids can pick up on hormones, Mom being the goddess of sex and all that, and so they probably told people who told people and thus it's common knowledge. I don't think he really cares who knows, because he has more important things to worry about than his vagina, and I feel like the gods and Chiron and their ilk have all seen weirder (Athena born from a headache, Dionysus born from a thigh, both of them Zeus; sibling marriage, pederasty, sleeping with animals, turning into animals and sleeping with people, etc etc) and are mostly unfazed. 
> 
> It's more likely new campers who'd been raised mortal would be weird about it, but I'm not sure how or even if I want to play with that. For now, the default state of camp halfblood is 'okay, you're a guy with a vagina, now let's fight monsters'.


End file.
